


Flashpoint

by BatmanWhoLaughss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A New Dawn - John Jackson Miller, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Maybe A Little Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatmanWhoLaughss/pseuds/BatmanWhoLaughss
Summary: “You wanna kiss me so bad right now,” he says, and the smirk never leaves his face. He’s laughing, damn him, and it sets her even more on edge."That’s–what?” Her jaw drops, her anger only increasing tenfold. Because shedoes, she wants to wipe that blasted smile off his face and drag him back to her bunk by hishair, but that’s not the point.---After a mission nearly takes a terrible turn, Hera and Kanan find a different way to vent their frustrations. (Spoiler alert: It's exactly what it sounds like)
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 22
Kudos: 94





	Flashpoint

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the most shameless thing i have ever written. It's literally based on a tweet I saw that said "who's the person to say 'you wanna kiss me so bad right now" in the middle of an argument" and that just SCREAMED kanan to me, so here we are. Enjoy some spicy Kanera content!! (Set pre-star wars rebels)
> 
> Also, this was written by request of HunterByDayWhovianByNight so thank you to her for making me write it.

“You’re such an _idiot_ , Kanan! I had it under control!”

“You almost _died_! If I hadn’t stepped in, you would have taken a blaster bolt to the gut before you knew it!”

They’re in the cockpit, finally in hyperspace after a long, exhausting mission. Hera is _livid_ , staring at Kanan with an absolutely murderous expression, because the stunt he pulled nearly cost them everything. 

“I can take care of myself!” she yells. “You could have gotten hurt, and then I would have had to _carry_ your self-sacrificing ass back to the _Ghost_.” 

“I _know_ you can,” he says, throwing his arms up. “But did you expect me to just stand there and do nothing?”

 _Stars,_ she’s going to kill him. His scowl is thunderous and she’s so unbelievably mad at him she could _scream_ , but something primal and dangerous is mixing with her anger, and suddenly she’s noticing little details on him that send a pulse right between her legs. She’s watching the way the light catches his eyes at just the right angle, and the way the muscles in his arms flex as he brings them back to his hips. He’s sweaty, his hair’s coming loose from his ponytail, and he’s still breathing hard, and inevitably her eyes flick down his chest towards the firm, lean muscle that she knows lurks beneath his sweater and… _Focus, Syndulla. The kriffing moron nearly got himself killed._

“I _expect_ you to _trust me_! To stick to the plan!” Not to throw her out of the way and nearly take four blaster bolts that were meant for her. They barely made it out of that smuggler’s den alive, and she’s angry, frustrated, and infuriatingly turned on, because this stubborn, brave, foolish _ass_ of a human always puts himself right into the line of fire to protect her. 

“I do trust you! I was just trying to keep you _safe_ ,” Kanan says, but there’s less malice in his voice. He’s still angry, but there’s something else in his expression now. He’s studying her face, like he sees _right_ through her, and he can tell exactly what she’s thinking. It’s like he knows she’s a hair’s breadth away from jumping him right here in the cockpit. _Damn Jedi perceptiveness._

But Hera’s still angry. “The mission comes first, Kanan! You know that! And if you _really_ trusted me, you would finish the job instead of risking everything to save me.” She knows she has to get through to him so he doesn’t pull something _idiotic_ like this again, but he doesn’t seem like he’s really listening to her anymore. He’s… he’s fucking _smiling_. It’s the smile that makes her want to smack him and jump his bones at the same time, and she scowls again when she sees it. “What exactly are you smirking at?”

“You wanna kiss me _so_ bad right now,” he says, and the smirk never leaves his face. He’s _laughing_ , damn him, and it sets her even more on edge. 

“That’s– _what?”_ Her jaw drops, her anger only increasing tenfold. Because she _does_ , she wants to wipe that blasted smile off his face and drag him back to her bunk by his _hair_ , but that’s not the point. She’s shaking now, because he nearly _died_ and she _hates_ him for it, but damn if she doesn’t feel a different kind of thrill rushing through her at the dangerous edge to his voice. 

Kanan shrugs like the cocky bastard he is. “I don’t blame you. I’d wanna kiss me too.” But there’s a kind of intense focus in his eyes as he watches her that goes _right_ to her core. 

That’s–he’s an _ass, he’s such an ass_ , but _why_ is that look making her legs wobble, and _why_ does she want his face between them until she forgets her own name? 

She’s rapidly losing focus. The anger and want and frustration are too much, and she can’t keep up. “You _–_ that’s _–_ you’re _–_ fucking _Force_ you’re _infuriating_ , Kanan.” 

He steps closer, and his smirk is sinful and dangerous. “You like me, though. And you’re ridiculous if you think I’ll ever stop trying to keep you safe.”

“ _Ughhh, you–”_ she lets out a wordless groan. She still wants to punch him for putting himself in danger like that, but now she’s just desperate, hopped up on adrenaline and anger and she _hurls_ herself at him instead. She’s moving before her mind even registers it, her mouth fusing to his as her legs wrap around his waist. He freezes for a moment, stumbling slightly as he tries to keep his balance, but then he lets out a low _growl_ against her lips and he gives as good as he gets. The kiss is so forceful it’s bruising, almost painful, but she’s still angry and she’s well past being gentle right now. She rips his hair tie out, tangling her fingers in the dark strands as her tongue meets his and his arms wrap around her back. 

Hera’s core is pressed against his as their lips keep moving, and she can _feel_ him, already hard and ready and straining against his pants. She should have known he’d be as keyed up as she is. They’re still in the cockpit, and they should probably take this elsewhere before things start getting really heated, but she doesn’t _care_. She _wants_ him, wants to feel his warm body pressed up against hers and his heartbeat against her skin. She doesn’t want to think about how close they came to something terrible. 

Dimly, she registers movement, and she realizes Kanan is walking them out of the cockpit while his mouth stays melded to hers. She’s not sure how he’s doing it– it probably involves the Force– but suddenly they’re in front of his cabin door. Thank _fuck_ she remembered to switch the autopilot on, because she can’t untangle herself from his embrace right now even if she wanted to. The door slides shut behind them, and then her back hits the wall as he keys in the code to lock it. He grabs one lek and tugs her face upwards to suck a mark into her neck, pulling with _just_ the right pressure to make her whimper his name as her hips grind more insistently against his. 

He’s warm and soft and _still alive_ , and she wants him so badly it _hurts_. But she’s still mad at him, even if she can barely think straight with his mouth working at her pulse point like that. “You could have _died,_ you kriffing _moron_.” It doesn’t come out quite as forceful as she wants it to, because he chooses that moment to scrape his teeth across her neck. Then he bites down on her collarbone and turns the last word into a breathy moan. 

“You too. Wasn’t gonna let that happen.” It’s a low growl that sends a rush of heat straight down to where she aches for him. She untucks his shirt from his pants as he reaches up to yank her pilot’s cap down over her lekku.

“Shut _up_ ,” Hera groans as she pulls his shirt over his head. “You do _not_ get to throw yourself in front of a blaster to save me.” _You’re too important to me,_ is what she doesn’t say. 

Kanan’s watching her with an intense, almost curious expression. He looks like he’s going to say something stupid _,_ like _I’ll take a blaster bolt for you in a heartbeat,_ that she does _not_ want to hear right now. She just wants to feel him, so before he can respond, she disentangles her legs from his waist. Then she flips them so _he’s_ pressed against the wall as her lips claim his again. 

Hera’s hands find their way back into his hair, as his come up to cup her breasts before working at the buckles of her clothes. He tastes like the Correlian ale he drank while they waited at the cantina, and he smells like a mix of sweat and leather and something else that’s so uniquely _Kanan_ it makes her tighten her grip on him. Her mouth is working feverishly, urgent and demanding as she breathes another whimper of his name. She fumbles with his belt as he tugs the straps of her armor off. Then he pulls her shirt over her head, and his skin is _finally_ against hers as she reaches a hand down the front of his pants. 

“ _Hera,_ ” It’s a punched-out moan, but there’s something serious behind it too, something she still doesn’t want to hear. 

“I will _gag you_ if you say saving me is worth your life.” She punctuates the phrase with a squeeze of her hand between his legs, and to his credit, he shuts his mouth. A low whine escapes him, though, and something about the sparkle in his eyes tells her that he might not be _entirely_ opposed to her keeping him quiet. She files his reaction away for a later date, before she reaches under the waistband of his basics and wraps her hand around him fully. 

Hera watches his face as she strokes his cock, and his hands stop fumbling with her pants as he throws his head back. He’s _shaking,_ full of just as much adrenaline as she is, and he groans again before pulling her mouth back to his. She’s relentless, though, using everything she knows about his body against him as she strokes him faster and faster. He’s a trembling _mess_ , breathing tiny moans that get louder and louder as she bites down hard on his bottom lip. Half of her is still angry, but the other half can’t help but appreciate the view as his head hits the wall again with a low thud. She doesn’t stop, not until she finds just the right pressure and rhythm that makes him cry out her name again. A few more strokes and she drops to her knees, and another low whine escapes Kanan’s lips as she tugs his pants and basics down. 

His knees buckle when she gets her mouth on him. One hand comes to rest on her head while the other grabs the shelf to keep him standing. “ _F_ _orce,_ do _not_ stop,” he pants. She starts to bob faster and faster as she looks up to see him. His eyes are blown wide, watching her with a slack-jawed look as he whimpers her name. Then, a few moments later, his head seems to clear enough for him to start stroking her lekku as he bucks his hips into her mouth. 

She doesn’t usually do this. There’s never enough time, she’s usually too desperate to have him inside her, and he’s usually more focused on her pleasure than his. But now it’s different; she still sees the blaster fire that missed his head by an inch and she wants to erase that image from her mind entirely. She wants him begging for her, wants to reduce him to nothing more than a puddle of pleasure and need, and _then_ she wants him to fuck her until she can’t remember why she’s mad at him in the first place.

Hera keeps going as he strokes her lekku more insistently, tightening his grip in just the right spot to send a shiver down her spine. She moves faster, swirling her tongue as her mouth sinks onto him over and over again. Until eventually it’s too much for him, and his knees wobble again as he pulls her back with a strangled gasp of her name. 

“Fuckin _c’mere,_ ” Kanan groans, yanking her upwards to kiss her again. He goes back to her pants with renewed intensity. “Too many clothes,” he mutters, before he finally gets the buckles undone and pulls her flight pants down her legs. She smirks against his lips at how breathy his voice sounds. His fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra as he walks them both towards his bed. Finally he gets it open, tossing it to the side without a second thought as she hits the bed and pulls him on top of her.

Kanan’s skin is hot against hers, and there’s an almost feral look in his eye as he starts trailing his mouth down her jaw. It’s a look she only sees occasionally, and it signals a kind of single-minded determination that always leads to _very_ desirable results. His mouth is still moving down the side of her neck, sucking another mark into the base of her throat that draws a breathy moan from her. One hand trails down her stomach and under her basics as he kisses his way towards her breasts, and she’s about to tell him to _fucking come on, Jedi,_ when his mouth finds her nipple just as two fingers plunge inside her. 

She’s already wet–has been since he flashed her that damn _smirk_ in the cockpit. And from the way he smiles as he drags his teeth across her breast, she knows he can tell how badly she wants this. He flicks his tongue across her nipple as his fingers curl inside her, drawing out another whimper as she feels a phantom touch ghost over her other breast. She glances down, confused, and his eyes are closed, like he’s deep in thought. That _smug, cocky, cheating bastard_ is using the _Force_ to get her off. She would laugh, but she’s busy grabbing his hair and tugging his face back up to hers as his fingers keep working at her core. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, but he moves his fingers inside her _just_ _so_ as she does, so it comes out as a whine.

He watches her for a beat, before he smirks again. His thumb finds just the right spot at that moment, and she gasps in a way that absolutely does _not_ help her case. “No you’re not.” 

“I–” Hera’s about to yell at him again, but his thumb flicks her clit as his fingers curl again and she loses whatever retort she had. “ _Fuck you.”_ It’s the only thing she can come up with while he’s making her see stars like this. 

There’s that blasted _smile_ again as he barks out a laugh and removes his hand. Before she can tell him to _stop being a tease, Kanan_ , he’s pulling her basics down her legs and tossing them to the floor. “That’s the plan, darlin’.” And _stars,_ she’s going to _hit him_ when this is over. 

Then that focused fire in his eyes is back, and Hera can’t help but shudder as he slides down her body. His mouth finds her navel, then her inner thigh, and then she lets out the loudest moan yet as his tongue finds her core. 

His fingers slip inside her again as his mouth finds her clit, and it’s too much. It’s _torture_ , the way he brings her right to the brink but keeps her from slipping over it. She’s practically incoherent as her hand fists in his hair with a grip that’s probably painful. She knows this game, knows that he’s giving her the same treatment she gave him, but it’s not _fair_. It’s like she’s balanced on a knife’s edge as his fingers stretch her open in time with flicks of his tongue. And then he murmurs a soft “Come for me, Hera,” against her skin and _finally_ the wave crests. The hand that’s not buried inside her twines with hers and squeezes as she rides out her orgasm. 

Hera’s shaking as the pleasure courses through her, but Kanan doesn’t give her a moment to breathe. Her brain is still trying to catch up as he flips her onto her stomach, before grabbing her and lifting her to her knees. Then he pulls her hips back as he thrusts his forward, sliding into her in one firm motion. And _stars,_ they don’t do this often enough, because she usually likes to watch his face, but he’s buried so deep inside her like this that she can feel it throughout her whole body.

He lets out a low moan, leaning down so that his chest is pressed against her back and his lips find her shoulder blade. He’s still got a firm grip on her hips, so hard it’s almost bruising, but he’s not moving yet. He’s trembling again, staying still to let her adjust, and his lips are trailing open-mouthed kisses across her back when she rocks back against him–a wordless signal to _move, fucking_ move _, Kanan._ But he doesn’t. He’s just staying still, and she starts to think something’s wrong when he leans down to whisper low in her ear. 

“You didn’t see how they looked at you,” he growls. He punctuates the statement with a firm thrust of his hips, and she _whimpers_ when he does. “They were eyeing you like a piece of _meat_.” 

There’s a shudder that runs through him as he says it, and her heart sinks a little as it does. She’s used to that, used to men treating her like next to nothing, but she knows Kanan _hates_ it, every time. She rocks her hips again, trying to distract him from things she still doesn’t want to think about, but he doesn’t move, letting out a shaky sigh against the back of her neck. 

“I could _feel_ it, Hera.” _There’s_ the hard thrust. That’s what she needs, and she wants _more_ of it, but he’s still talking. “Half of them hated you, wanted to kill you, but the other half wanted… something else. Didn’t like it.” Now _she_ shudders, because she knows he can sense strong emotions, but she hasn’t ever considered that he would be able to sense _that._

“ _Kanan…”_ It’s a breathy moan, but there’s something serious there too. He sounds so angry and so _sad_ , and she wants to take that away. Then he _growls_ again, and the sound goes straight to her core, before he really starts moving. And _sweet fucking stars in the galaxy,_ it’s been too long since the last time they did this. She knows she’s going to be sore in the morning, but she can’t help but rock back to meet him as his arms wind around her stomach. 

One of his hands trails down between her legs as he fucks her, and it makes her scream, makes her cry out his name and bow her head as her arms shake. She can feel _all_ of him, the hard length of him inside her, his sweat-slicked skin against her back, and the feather-light press of his fingers against her core. And then she feels her entire body shatter like glass in one single moment as the pleasure becomes too much to take. 

They’re both panting, breathing hard as Kanan gives her a moment to breathe, before suddenly he pulls out of her and drags her body on top of his. 

For a moment Hera just stares, watching as the light catches his face at an angle that makes the blue of his eyes stand out even more. He still looks angry, and part of her is still mad at him for nearly getting himself taken away from her forever. But she’s so drunk on adrenaline and pleasure and the residual thrill from the fight that she banishes the thought and brings her face down to his. 

Their tongues meet as he finds her lek, stroking down the back of it as her hips grind against his. He knows exactly how, too. He knows exactly which spots drive her crazy and exactly how much pressure to use when he wraps his hand around it and squeezes. She breaks away from his mouth a moment later, sitting up and lifting her hips before she sinks down onto him sinfully slowly. 

Kanan’s eyes slide shut as he lets out a shaky breath. His hands drag up her sides to her breasts, flicking his thumbs across her nipples as she rocks her hips slowly against him. The small motion makes him tighten his grip, and she smirks down at him. He’s always so beautiful like this, so open and carefree and lost in sensation that his guard is truly down. But now he’s still got a crease in his forehead, and Hera frowns, determined to take it away. She shifts her hips up, then back down in one hard and fast motion that makes his eyes fly open. 

“Still mad at me?” he groans.

Hera smirks at him as she starts moving faster, and she struggles to keep her own voice steady as the pleasure starts to build again. “Don’t push it, love.” 

“I should make you mad more often,” Kanan laughs, before Hera really starts to pick up the pace and both of them are struggling to speak. His hands are still cupping her breasts, tweaking a nipple between his fingers as she rides him faster and faster. It’s almost unbearable; she can feel the hard length of him inside her as she leans back slightly to take him in even deeper than before. And that draws another scream from her, because she can feel _everything_ , every inch of him as he starts bucking his hips up to meet her. She moves one hand down between her own legs in full view of his awestruck gaze. Then, suddenly, she feels herself tense up all over, and everything is so brilliantly bright and beautiful that she never wants this moment to end. 

She’s riding wave after wave of pleasure as her orgasm subsides, and when the aftershocks fade she leans down and falls practically limp on top of him. He’s _so_ close, whimpering _Hera_ and _please_ and _fuck_ , and he takes over, lifting his knees so he can thrust his hips upwards. And it’s only a few more moments before he screws his eyes shut, pressing her lips to his as he comes too.

They’re silent for a few moments, their lips moving in a lazy dance as Kanan’s hands roam up and down Hera’s back. They’re both sweaty and warm and slightly sticky, but Hera wants to draw this moment out as long as possible. Once it’s over, they’ll have to talk about everything, and part of her still doesn’t want to face it. She just wants to lie here, pressed against his warm body and basking in pleasure and warmth forever. 

Eventually, though, he breaks away from her mouth and reaches down underneath his bed for the cloth they use for situations like this. She slides off him and they both clean themselves up in a hurry, before Kanan tosses the cloth into the hamper across the room and pulls her against his side again. 

Hera’s head is resting on his chest. He pulls the blankets up over them both as his hand comes up to trace the markings on her lekku. There’s nothing sexual in it, this time; it’s a feather-light touch that’s soft and comforting. It’s an absent-minded thing he often does while they’re in bed, and Hera always finds it impossibly endearing. His lips press against the top of her forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs softly, before resting his cheek against the top of her head. 

Hera sighs. “Do _not_ scare me like that again. Or I’ll kill you myself.”

Kanan chuckles. “10-4, captain.” 

She shifts over until she’s fully on top of him, resting her chin on her arms so that she can look him in the eye. “What were you thinking _?_ ” She’s not really mad at him, not anymore. She was more afraid than angry in the first place. Afraid of how close she came to going home to an empty ship and an empty bed. She knows he can see the sadness in her eyes.

He sighs. “I do trust you, ya know.” His hand comes up to cup her face, and she raises an eyebrow, confused. “Before, you said I didn’t trust you. I do. More than anyone. I know you’re capable. I just… I kept thinking that that would have been the second time someone I care about died while I did nothing.” There’s a deep-seated anger and sadness written all over his face, and a lump suddenly forms in her throat when she sees it. He’s told her before, about the day the Jedi fell, about how his master died so that he could get away. 

“Kanan…” She doesn’t quite know how to answer that. She knows he has a fierce protective streak that’s right at the core of who he is (they are called _Knights_ , after all), but she doesn’t want to think about him putting himself in the crosshairs again. 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” He pecks her lips softly. “I know what we do has risks, and we need to trust each other. But I… I don’t know. I couldn’t stand there and watch it happen a second time.” 

For a moment they just stare at each other again. Her heart is pounding against her chest, and she’s looking at him like she can’t quite believe he’s here with her. He’s doing the same, and she should be afraid–she should be _terrified_ at how deeply she cares for this man. This _idiot_ , who’s infuriating and stubborn and reckless but also funny and sweet and so deeply kind she’s surprised he’s even real. The renegade who’s managed to worm his way into her heart against her better judgement. The longer he looks at her, the more nervous he seems to get, and finally she sighs. 

“We need a signal,” Hera mutters, before pressing her lips to his softly again. He raises an eyebrow. “For the next time you’re going to do something stupid like that,” she chuckles. 

Kanan laughs, a deep, full one, before she rolls over and settles against his side. She’s exhausted, suddenly, the mission and the fight and the aftermath of pleasure lulling her further towards sleep. “I’ll come up with something,” Kanan says, before his arm winds its way around her shoulders and he kisses her forehead again. “Sleep first.” 

Hera twines her fingers with his as her eyes close. “Don’t think you’re getting off scot-free. I’m making you scrub the hull for a whole _month._ ” It’s barely above a whisper, and she can feel herself losing consciousness fast. 

Kanan laughs again. “I can live with that.” His voice isn’t much louder. “Go to sleep, captain. We’re both okay.” 

“Mmm,” she hums. Today, they’re both okay. They came _so_ close to a terrible reality, but they managed to survive another day. She knows there’s going to be more close calls like this. She knows that she’s going to have to sort out these messy feelings for Kanan Jarrus at some point. She knows that one day, the thing she fears most will become reality. But for now, they’re safe, tucked away in a corner of her ship where the rest of the galaxy seems like a distant memory. And they have hours in hyperspace before they have to face it again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback/kudos are very much appreciated, as always!! I am still new to the smut genre, so feedback is EXTRA loved. :)


End file.
